


Combination, Lock.

by Meadow Lion (Meadow_Lion)



Category: Class (TV 2016)
Genre: Aliens, Angst and Romance, Canon Compliant, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Canon Queer Character, Canon Queer Relationship, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meadow_Lion/pseuds/Meadow%20Lion
Summary: Following the events of "The Lost," Charlie and Matteusz have some things to discuss.
Relationships: Matteusz Andrzejewski/Charlie Smith
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Combination, Lock.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lc2l](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lc2l/gifts).



> lc2l, I hope you enjoy your story!
> 
> Beta thanks go to Karios. Any mistakes are mine alone.

Thought is action; the intent is paramount.

That April is not actually dead but transformed, transposed somehow, doesn't matter, because Charlie intended to kill her. She asked him to do it, but he made the choice.

That his people are all truly gone doesn't matter. That he is both prince of none and king of none doesn't matter, because he is an undeserving killer in every way that does matter. He killed April, the Rhodian souls, the Shadow Kin . . . and Matteusz' love for him in the space of minutes.

That Quill saved Charlie doesn't matter -- 

"Of course it matters!" The world comes back into focus with Matteusz' cry.

Charlie distantly realizes that he's experiencing something like what humans call shock, and that he's spoken aloud. Matteusz is bracing Charlie's face with strong hands, as achingly familiar as the tears in his eyes. The two of them aren't at Coal Hill anymore, but at home. He can't remember how that happened or where everyone else -- everyone left alive -- has gone.

In a voice like brittle strings on an instrument, Matteusz says, "It all matters. _You_ still matter, regardless of whether or not you are royalty."

The noise from Charlie's throat is some bizarre amalgam of laugh and sob and deeply bred scoff. He closes his eyes. Forces in and out a more measured breath, and takes a very large step backward out of Matteusz' reach. He can't reopen his eyes until he's turned away, staring at the front door. "I am master of only my domain. Perhaps you should leave it."

He can hear Matteusz swallow before saying, "What happened to 'as long as I need'?"

Anguish that Charlie can't blame on any lingering Shadow in his mind erupts. He whirls around again. "What about what I need? Have you asked that of me? Does _that_ matter?"

For once Matteusz doesn't move to hold Charlie but stands, arms crossed, bitting his lip, and fiercely meeting Charlie's eyes.

Charlie knows this is not the time to note how attractive his boyfriend (ex-boyfriend, probably) is. Also, "I apologize. I know how supportive you've been."

Gently Matteusz says, "You too."

"And I don't want you to go." Charlie scrubs his hands over his face. Dropping them to look at Matteusz again takes marked effort. "I don't know how you can stand to be anywhere near me now anyway."

"Charlie," Matteusz starts.

He interrupts, suddenly desperate to delay further impact from his killing blows. "Where's everyone else? What happened to . . . what do we even call her now, Aprilinus? Corakapril?"

Matteusz' eyebrow goes up at this foolish attempt at humor. "Quill told me to bring you here while she took Tanya to join her brothers. Ram was going to find his mother. But first he was helping disguise April to get her home to her mother, until we can figure out what else to do."

"Until _I_ can figure out what to do, you mean, right?" Charlie counters. "It's always my responsibility, my fault."

"That is the prince talking," Matteusz says. "Charlie, you don't have to take everything on yourself. It is our world --"

"Oh, shall I leave _your_ domain?" The sentiment is unsurprising but tastes like decomposition in the back of his mouth.

Groaning, Matteusz throws up his hands. "I am including you in the 'our'! All of us were supposed to work together. You belong here. You belong . . . "

Charlie fears letting new hope grow but has to ask, "I belong where?"

"In all your strangeness, you belonged with me," Matteusz replies, almost too quietly.

Everything falls at the past tense: his gaze slips to the floor, his shoulders slump, and his heart plummets into his stomach. Thickness clogs his words as he drags them forth. "Not anymore, though. Because I was right. I killed your love, and you can't stand me. This is quite the extended farewell, my love."

Matteusz' feet move into Charlie's field of view. A moment later, those dear fingers are curving to lift his chin until he looks up into soft, sad eyes. Matteusz says, "We are not saying goodbye."

Past the catch in his throat, Charlie draws in and holds a deep breath. He whispers, "No?"

"We promised to love each today, and today is not over yet. Also, we are combined, you and I." Matteusz tips his forehead against Charlie's. "That's not such an easy bond to break."

"But you want to. To break it?" Charlie feels himself close to fracture.

"Charlie." Matteusz' tone is too complicated to decipher, although the next words sound like curses.

Wrenching his mouth into half a smile, he says, "Sorry, what was that? My Polish still isn't very good. Quill has had me focusing on English with a dash of French, although I've been trying to learn your language on the side. I had thought maybe my diplomatic skills could come in handy to smooth things over with your family, and --"

"You are rambling," Matteusz says, with something perilously close to affection. That shifts to concern when he rubs Charlie's arms and adds, "You are trembling too."

Charlie tries not to be too obvious in how he leans into the support. "Yes, well, that happens when the world is trying to fall apart on me. As much as I may try to put up a brave front or a show of force, inside I'm all wibbly-wobbly little pieces flying every which way."

A tiny, surprised laugh bursts out of Matteusz. "Wibbly-wobbly?"

"Shut up." He gives up and rests his head on Matteusz' shoulder. If the bond is breaking, it'll take him with it, wherever he stands. "I think I picked it up from the Doctor."

Humming in acknowledgement, Matteusz tucks his head against Charlie's. His warm breath sends Charlie from trembling to shivering. "The problem -- and I mean that as something to work through, not to get rid of -- is that I love all of those pieces. You don't have to try to hide them, or anything else, from me."

"Oh." He's not sure what else to say to that, although, "There's so much darkness. Not merely remnants of Shadow."

Matteusz pulls his head back, only far enough to look him in the eye again. "You said you never complain about me, even in your mind. Does that mean you think I'm perfect?"

Charlie smiles easily at that. "Well, no. Sorry, should I?"

"No, that's my point," Matteusz says, smiling back. "I am not all sweetness and light. I have to balance that with the bad. So do all our friends."

"And Quill, it seems." Part of Charlie still can't comprehend her having saved him from the Cabinet.

Matteusz agrees, "And Quill. Charlie, today was awful, everyone can agree. You made decisions that trouble me a lot. But contrary to what you said and what you may think, you didn't die. Nor should you have."

Blinking hard, Charlie dares to stroke his knuckles across Matteusz' cheek and say, "I don't think I can manage without you."

Whatever these Polish words are, by the sound of Matteusz' voice, he's expressing fond exasperation. He shakes his head. "Have you been listening to me at all?"

"I always listen to you," Charlie says, frowning. Not pouting, no.

"We have work to do," Matteusz says, and repeats, " _We_. The group of us will work on helping Ram and Tanya recover, and on helping April . . . somehow. You and I will work on us."

"Us. We will?" Every fibre in Charlie, gold and shade, pulls him toward Matteusz.

Matteusz grasps Charlie's hands. "Yes. In the meantime, you will sleep on the sofa while I take the bed."

Years of royal upbringing make Charlie balk at the indignity. Rather than entirely quashing the response, he decides to share all of himself. The killer, the fool, the ruler, the lover; Charlie. "I guess I'll concede that. As long as you'll hold me for a while first."

Charlie opens his arms, and Matteusz enfolds him. Their bodies align, like tumblers of a lock slotting into place, secure. Combined.

~ end ~ 


End file.
